The Healing of Flowers
by purple platypus of doom
Summary: A life of peace, far from her painful past was all the girl wanted. But the appearance of the tall, dark boy who called himself Jet threatened that chance. With him came memories and thoughts she had tried to bury. But she was not the only one who hurt. Perhaps the flowers the girl tends to can help them both. Jet x OC
1. Hydrangea: Chapter 1

This is my first story, so please bear with me! I tried to get all the spelling and grammar errors out, but if you find one, please tell me; I will fix it! And I would love any sort of constructive criticism you have.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avatar world, nor anything/one that resides within it. The only creature that is mine is the girl, whose name I can't say right now. She is a child of my imagination!

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Chapter 1

The air shimmered as the girl pulled a cart laden in plant life. Flowers of every color, shape and size adorned the cart, kept in good health by the vases full of cool water. Despite the heat, the girl was dressed in long black robes, instead of the customary green and white of Ba Sing Se. Her black hair fell loose around her, instead of properly pulled back in a loop on top of the head. Her slender feet were bare, toes just barely poking out from under her robe. Finally, her eyes were a beautiful yellow, the same pale color as Buttercups.

Positioning her cart right beside the pathway running through the park, she pulled a stool of her cart, and sat. Not a sound she made, as passersby looked at her flowers, making no move to purchase the beautiful blooms. The sun was heading down before anyone showed any real interest. It was an older man, quite round and soft looking. He was dressed in forest green robes, and a straw hat hung on his back, unused. He stroked his immense grey beard as he inspected the flowers.

"I want some flowers that would look good in a tea shop, trouble is, I don't know which would be best."  
The girl smiled at the sound of his voice, but her smile looked forced, fake.  
"It depends on what sort of feeling you want for your tea house."  
Her voice was smooth, drifting across the senses like water. The old man grinned as well, his smile genuine.  
"I want people to be happy and comfortable in my tea house. The world can be harsh at times, and people need a break. The Jasmine Dragon should be a place for people to forget the pain in their lives, if only for a while."  
The girl smiled again, her smile a little cold. Her mind drifted to a tea house that would heal, and comfort.  
"Here," she whispered. "I would suggest a bouquet of wisteria and yarrow." She reached into the mists of thousands of flowers and pulled out a handful of a beautiful pale purple flower. The flower was really a cluster of several flowers hanging down a stem of emerald green. The flowers started out large, almost as big as the girls palm, then tapered down to the size of her pinky. "Wisteria can mean welcome, fair stranger." She reached into the cart again, this time pulling out a cluster of white flowers. The petals were as large as the fingertip, and in the center was a bright yellow cluster. "Yarrow means healing."  
The man laughed heartily, "You seem to have grasped the meaning of my tea house perfectly. I would love those beautiful flowers to sit in my humble tea shop."  
As the girl began preparing the flowers for the journey, the man ambled on.

"I have a nephew who is in need of a little healing as well. Maybe this will help him."

The girl smiled again, handing him the flowers and taking the coins he offered.

"Perhaps it will," she whispered. The girl knew all too well how helpful flowers could be, how they could comfort unlike any human could. Seeming to pick up on her thoughts, the old man pulled out a scrap of paper, and quickly jotted something down.

"If you are ever in the need of a cup of tea, of just an ear to listen, come to this address." Hesitantly, the girl took the paper, watching the old man leave with a smile on his face.

o0o o0o o0o

As the sun was going down, the girl began packing up. She grasped the worn handles of her cart, and began the long trek back to her house. But before she had walked ten pases, a figure marched up to her. It was a boy, perhaps a few years older than herself, dressed in light armor. His skin was surprisingly dark, the tan of one who had rarely been in under a roof. Messy brown hair, chocolate eyes, and tall, the boy was a tad intimidating. The girl shrunk away from the boy, spying the hooked swords he wore on his belt.

Taking a straw from his mouth, the boy leaned his face close to the girl. She couldn't help noticing he smelled of pine trees.

"So, what flower would you suggest for me?"

His voice was so haughty and proud that the girl immediately did not like him. hurriedly, she reached into her cart, pulling out a large bright blue flower and thrusting it into his face. The cluster of flowers was big enough to sit in both hands comfortably, and was the most startling, electric blue.

"Hydrangea," she hissed, "meaning vanity."

The boy frowned, then grinned widely, placing the straw back in his mouth.

"If you give me that,' he pulled the flower from her grasp, bringing it up to his face and taking a deep breath of the sent. "It must mean you can see something for me to be vain about."

The girls pale face pinkened, and she could not help the irritated feeling rising within her. She made to walk off again, but the boy jumped in front of her before she had even taken two steps.

"So, what is the angry girl's name?"

She just glared at him, not saying a word.

"You don't want to tell me? or is it you don't have one?"

Glaring at him, the girl could not help but feel the stab. He didn't know how true he had been. Something must have shone on her face, for the boy immediately spoke up.

"I'm sorry if I brought up something I shouldn't have," he whispered. Reaching around her, he plucked a flower from the cart, and tucked it behind her ear. "This flower suits you. What is it called?"

"Ca-camellia"

"Camellia." The boy tasted the name, then grinned again. "Alright, I'll call you Camellia now." Giving her a casual salute, he sauntered off, leaving the embarrassed girl to blush. "See you tomorrow!" he called over his shoulder.

The girl pulled the flower out of her hair, staring at the flower. It was a bright, vivid red, several petals layered on top of each other. In the center several yellow stems nested, the stems laden with pollen. She blushed as she recalled the meaning of the flower. You're the flame in my heart.

Suddenly, Camellia looked up. The boy was still within sight, waving the flower over his shoulder. Anger filled her, as her voice cracked across the park.

"You have to pay for that!"

o0o o0o o0o

Smellerbee looked up as the door to their little house swung open. Jet had been gone for a very long time, and the tomboy had been back from work for a while. Jet sauntered in, a smug grin on his face. More surprising then that was what he held in his hand. Longshots eyebrow rose at the flower, but Jet just laughed.

"I found someone interesting." Was Jets cryptic reply. Smellerbee just stared. It had been a long time since Jet had smiled the way he was now, staring down at the large flower. Ever sense the freedom fighters had come to Ba Sing Se, Jet had been even more secretive, closed off. Grabbing one of the chipped cups, Jet filled it with water and dropped the stem in. Someone interesting was a bit of an understatement. For a reason Jet couldn't quite place, the girl, Camellia, had seemed familiar. It pricked his curiosity, and Jet could not wait for tomorrow.

He set the flower next to his mat on the floor, and quickly got ready for bed. As always, when he crawled onto the mat, his hooked swords were well within reach. His mind wandered again to Camellia. Maybe it was something about her appearance, but that wouldn't help Jet. He had always been a little uncaring of how girls looked, and never payed any attention. The only things about appearance he noticed was the weapons hidden under robes, red cloth, and cruel, hate filled eyes of fire nation scum.

Tomorrow would be interesting indeed.


	2. Daisy: Chapter 2

So, another chapter! Hope y'all like it. Apparently, some of y'all "Cough Jacksword Cough" didn't realize that this was a continuation, and not a one shot. So, there is more to come! Right now, I'm guessing around 10 chap pies, but I may take longer to say what I want to say. . . . As always, review, construstive criticism, (hopefully) enjoy.

Disclamer: Do I own any of this? Not really. How about Camellia? Yup, you wont find her in the TV show "Cough Jacksword"

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Chapter 2: Daisy

The pattering of rain on leaves accompanied the girl as she set up her cart. The sun had just poked its head up, but it was hidden under the clouds. Instead of the beautiful sunrise Camellia loved, the sky had, in the least dramatic way possible, simply brightened. She hated rain, even though it gave life to the flowers she spent so much time caring for. It made her feel strange inside, as if a part of her was being smothered. Her mood was irritable, to say the least, so it didn't help when he just popped up behind her.

"Hey there." His silky smooth voice whispered in her ear, making Camellia's face turn pink. She swung around, raising her hand as if to strike out at him, but froze. The boy was so close. She could see every detail of his face, and feel his breath on her. The overwhelming smell of the forest filled her nose, bringing back memories. Ash raining from the sky, the heat of fire, the roar of burning plants, the cold look in familiar golden eyes.

"W-What are you doing here?" She sputtered, banishing the thoughts. Chucking, the boy grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips.

"Meeting the princess." He whispered. His breath was hot on her hand. Camellia ripped her hand away, pushing past the boy to finish setting up.

"Go away, you'll interrupt business."

The boy just chuckled, but when Camellia turned around again, he was gone.

o0o o0o o0o

The girl had just finished eating her lunch, a loaf of bread, when the first actual customer walked up. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, but the girl still did not want to leave the cover of her little tree. The customer was a boy who must have been around twelve or thirteen, looking at the flowers with a blush on his face. Camellia took in his strange, orange and yellow robes, The blue arrow tattoos on his hands and bald head, and the staff in his hand. Her eyes grew wide in surprise. It was the Avatar.

From the way he was looking at the flowers, as if a harder look may cause them to explode, the girl guessed he was buying flowers for a girl. Camellia had a lot of male customers, and she had learned there were only three reactions if they were buying for a girl.

One, they would try to act like they did not, could not care, seizing the first flower they could find. Their face would blush at least 100 shades of red, and would forget their change as they dashed away.

Two, they actually were uncaring, both to what the flower looked like and if the girl liked it. They would saunter up to Camellia's cart, ask her to pick something good, and never even spare a glance at the arrangement.

The last group, the group the Avatar fell into, was Camellia's favorite. Completely embarrassed and nervous on which flowers to pick, but genuinely trying to find the perfect bouquet. They would stare at them all, comparing them, agonizing over them, but make no headway whatsoever. A small smile played across her lips, but it did not reach her eyes.

"What sort of girl are you giving the flowers to?" Her voice seemed to startle the boy as he looked up, eyes wide with amazement

"You could tell I was giving it to a girl?" Camellia nodded her head, apparently breaking any barrier the Avatar had with that slight movement.

"She's the greatest girl in the world! She's nice and pretty, and kind, and she's helps me alot, and she believes in me, and when I look at her my heart pounds!" Finally he took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was much more serious. "I really like her."

With one eyebrow cocked, the girl could not help but be amazed. To think this boy in front of her, gushing over a girl to a complete stranger, was the reincarnated savior? It was almost too much to believe. The Avatar appeared to be in his own world, staring into the distance with a blush on his face.

"How many"

"How many what?" He snapped back into the conversation faster Camellia thought he could, head tilted to the side in confusion. Stifling a laugh, Camellia gestured around her at the flowers. Jumping, the Avatar grinned sheepishly.

"I don't know." He gazed down at the blooms, a lost expression covering his face. "I don't think she would like it if I gave her a bunch. . ."

Camellia nodded, and without a moments hesitation, plucked one flower from the midst.

"The daisy stands for innocents and loyal love." Her voice was an enchanting whisper, drawing the Avatar close. Blushing a little at the word love, the Avatar could not take his eyes away from the simple flower.

The petals were as white as the clouds in the sky, extending in thin ribbons from the yellow sun center. The hardy, emerald stalk held the flower up in a posture fitting an Empress. Two leaves, the edges almost tattered looking, adorned the stalk.

"It's perfect! Thank you, ma'am!"

Quickly, the Avatar dashed away, just after paying. The girl could not help but laugh at his haste. However, he had barely made it out of sight when he dashed back.

"My name's Aang, what's yours?"

Camellia blinked, her mouth opening in surprise.

"Uh. . " Her mind was blank, the Avatar waiting expectantly. "Ca-camellia."

"Thanks Camellia! Maybe you can meet her sometime!"

As soon as the Avatar, Aang, was out of sight, A shadow dropped down from the tree. Camellia stiffened, memories flooding back to her. With every soft, almost imperceptible step, Camellia's heart hammered. Her hand gripped the cool hilt of the dagger she always wore, concealed in her belt. Clinching her free hand into a fist, she prepared to spin around and attack. The footsteps were closer now, quietly padding toward her. A little bit more, he told herself, a little bit more and I can attack.

"So you like the name?" The shadow whispered into her ear, the silk voice familiar and strangely comforting. Camellia had to stop herself from swinging around and stabbing flesh.  
"I thought I told you to go away." She hissed out, voice strained by the effort to keep from attacking.  
"I was away, in the tree."  
"That doesn't count."

Camellia's fist slowly unclenched, fingers pulling themselves out of her palm. She even replaced the dagger before turning around; hand still hovering next to the hilt.

"So you like the name?" The boy repeated.  
"It is a good name," she grudgingly replied, "even if it doesn't suit me."

The boy did look as if he had been sitting in a tree half the day. His chocolate hair was matted and stuck to his forehead with the rain. Little twigs and leaves stuck to his shirt, some of them entwined in his hair. Yet even as bedraggled as he was, or perhaps because of it, the boy was still handsome. He bent down to pick up a new straw from the ground, chocolate, wet hair framing his face. He stayed like that for a second, arm outstretched to the ground, eyes peering out of the hair and boring into her.

"Camellia." His jovial attitude disappeared in a fracture of a second, making the girl jump. He straightened, placed the straw in his mouth, and addressed her again. "I've run into a problem that needs your attention." He stepped up close to her, his face barely inches from her's. Curiosity was the only thing keeping Camellia from running away. As it was, she was already backed up against her cart in an effort to not be so close. His breath was hot against her skin.

"You don't know my name."

The girl's face flushed in irritation. Here she was, expecting him to say something worthwhile, but it was just about a stupid name. Now she did try to escape, pushing against the arms resting on the cart on either side of her. It only served to anger her more, as she had not realized he had trapped her so well.  
"Get out of my way." Growling under her breath, she shoved his chest with enough force to take him a little by surprise. He stepped back, a chuckle escaping his lips.  
"Such great grammar," He whispered as well, head tilting back to look at the sky. "You almost sound like a noble."  
Camellia stiffened, glaring down at her bare, pale toes sticking out of her robe.  
"Do not come near me."  
Perhaps the boy understood the meaning of her words, heard the anger, underlying fear, in her tone, for he retreated. His jovial face now contemplating, as he leaned against the tree trunk. Camellia turned her back on the boy, taking a deep, steadying breath. She could feel his eyes still on her, the hair on her neck prickling. This strange boy threw her world out of whack, shattered her fragile mask of composure. She knew it would do no good to be near him. She couldn't afford allowing anyone to get that close to her. Eyes squeezed shut, she banished any thoughts of him being attractive, or interesting. It was at that moment Camellia decided to hate him.

o0o o0o o0o

Camellia sighed as she dropped the handles of the flower cart. It had been a long day, and she was tired. That boy frustrated her so much, and he had leaned against the tree, staring at her, for the rest of the day. Camellia had barely convinced him to not follow her home. In some mock gentlemanly nature, he had offered to pull the cart for her. Camellia shuddered to think how much harder it would be to get rid of him if he knew where she lived.

She stretched, turning to look at the view behind her. She lived as far from the center of the city as possible. Farmland surrounded her little house, and the yards around her house were covered in flowers. A tiny stone wall enclosed her massive garden, with an iron gate leading to the dirt path. She pulled the cart to the back of the house, into the shed. The shed leaned against her stone house as a wounded man clung to his fellow soldier.

Leaving the shed, she unlocked her house and stepped in. The house was small, with only two rooms. One room with a kitchen and table, and the other with a straw mattress. The only decorations was a vase of baby's breath sitting on her wood table.

The thing the girl loved the most about the inside of her house was the basement. A tiny, rickety ladder led down from a hole in the floor. The basement itself was unremarkable, a musty place to keep turnips and other such things. But in the farthest corner of the basement, one of the stone tiles was loose. She stepped over, grabbing a metal bar she kept handy for just this purpose, and pried up the tile.

Just like every other night, she lowered herself into the hole, traveling down the wide tunnel without a light. In no time at all, she had stepped into a lighted room. Dropping her heavy black robes to reveal a black loose shirt and pants underneath, she took a deep breath of stale, underground air.  
"This is who I am." Her whisper echoed amid the cave. The tunnel had widened out into a large hall, practice mats and straw dummies scattered about. Lime deposits decorated the walls, and the constant drip of water filled the chamber. Another steadying breath, and she slipped into a fighting stance. The warm up started out simple. Duck, swing out with a fist, a kick, deep breaths.  
She brought her fist up to block, stepped to the side, and punched forward. Hot fire erupted from her fist, scorching the wall several feet away. She jumped, kicking fire out from her feet. Fire. It reigned supreme in her mind. With the warm up done, the girl's controlled whisper rose to a shought.  
"I am from the Fire Nation!"  
Unleashing volley after volley of fire, Camellia fought. Her face was a mask of anger, of hate in its purest form. Everything she hated with all of her heart fueled her fire. Images of destruction filled her mind. A man with a face of stone, piercing gold eyes, raising one hand in the air as the signal. The smell of burning flesh. The searing pain of fire. The dancing, beautiful, dreadful flames. With each memory, her flames grew stronger. The air in the cave heated up, turning into a sauna. Sweat dripped from her brow, her shirt clinging to her soaked skin. Her hair whipped around her. The green stalks and delicate petals of flowers burning, swallowed in flames. The black smoke clogging the air. The scampering animals as they sought to escape the burning forest. And a new image surfaced in her mind. A boy, grass sticking out of his mouth, chocolate hair framing his face. She could almost hear his silk voice whisper in her ear. Her anger faded, replaced by a new emotion. The girl couldn't place what she felt at the thought of him.

"No." She growled, her growl transforming into a yell. "Hya!"

She spun, sending off another volley of fire. Her long hair, spinning around her, caught the flames. Grabbing the hair, Camellia cooled the flames with several deep breaths. She extinguished the burning hair, wrapping her fingers around it.

"Not again."  
Grabbing one of her many daggers, she sliced off the burned hair, dropping it on the floor. Her long, black hair now fell to her shoulder blades, the ends as jagged as if a child had cut it. Camellia breathed in the disgusting smell of burned hair. It burned the back of her throat, but she forced herself to swallow another breath of the smell. Her voice nearly broke, as she squeezed out the sentence.  
"I am from the fire nation."

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**Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which. . . . Stuff will happen!**


	3. Jasmine: Chapter 3

So, I was looking at the breakdown of who has read my story, and you wanna know something awesome? Someone from Japan read my story! I am Sooo excited! I know, I know, its a little weird for me to get so happy over something like that, BUT COME ON! I have always wanted to go to Japan, and its just so cool! So thank you! Well, the next chapters up. . . Tell me what you think . . . I have to go to sleep. . . CURSE NOT BEING ABLE TO LIVE OFF ZERO SLEEP!

Disclaimer: Oh yes, I still do not own the Avatar world, nor anything that resides within it. Except for Camellia. . . . .

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Camellia had no idea what she was doing. The red sun hovered over the wall, burning down into the city and filling her with energy. Today, many people would probably come by the flower stand, as it was looking to be a lovely day. But the girl had not set up her cart. In fact, she had not even brought the cart into the city with her. For the first day in her live, Camellia had paid no heed to flowers. Before, even on the days that she could not get to them, her mind would fly to the blooms.

She smoothed out the wrinkled paper clinched in her fist, only to crumple it up with nerves. It was the little scrap paper the old man had given her the other day. His elegant handwriting told of the address to his tea shop, the Jasmine Dragon. A part of her wanted to burn the note, to watch its ashes float away on the breeze. The other part? She wanted to run to the tea shop and pour out her soul to the old man. Scoffing at how ridiculous she was being, Camellia clinched the note between her first two fingers, making to burn it, but something held her back. She crumpled the note again and kept walking.

Her mind warred, but she could not stop herself from looking. _I will only go to the outside,_ she told herself,_ I most certainly will not go in._ Glancing up at the slip of paper, Camellia realized she had no idea where she was. The burning sun seemed to laugh at her struggle. The cobbles were harder, hotter, and foreign under her feet. Houses loomed over her, their broken window eyes glaring down at her, accusing her. _How dare you come to this part of town,_ they cried,_ how dare you pretend to be one of us? Look! Look at your bloodstained hands!_ Strangers hurried past her, faceless, and uncaring to her plight. Camellia's breath came in short gasps. Fear welled up inside her, the feeling of total loss of control taking over.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Hard, calloused, unfamiliar. Somehow, the hand cleared her mind. This was something she could handle, this was something she understood. Years of training, her frazzled state, the strong sun, it all pilled up, snapping her control. Spinning around, she wrapped one leg around the attacker's leg, pulling it out from under him. They crashed to the ground. A silver dagger seemed to appear in her hand, with how fast she pulled it out. She pressed it against the soft flesh of the neck. One flick of the wrist, and so much crimson blood would spill down staining everything red. Red, the color of the Fire Nation. Heat radiated off the blade, burning the assailants neck. He squirmed, but was effectively pinned. He was not going anywhere.

Her black hair fell about her, blocking her from the prying eyes of passersby. The strong scent of the forest flooded her senses. She blinked, finally tearing her eyes from his neck and looking at the person pinned below her. Chocolate hair, brown knowing eyes, tan skin, and a displaced straw sticking out of his mouth. Anger and fear clouded her vision, and for a while, she did not recognize him.

"No matter how much I like being pounced on, would you mind getting off me?" His voice was not accusing, nor was it surprised. Merely curious. The girl glanced down, not quite comprehending what he was saying. Her face paled as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had just attacked a_ mostly_ regular citizen of Ba Sing Se, and pinned him to the ground. Her head whipped around, taking in the people watching them. He might discover her secret, they all might find out.

Quickly, she jumped up. Painfully slow, the boy stood up. All the while, Camellia kept yelling at herself in her mind, telling herself to get out, run away and not come back. Yet she stayed. The boy just stared at her, not saying a word. He twirled the straw in his mouth. The crowd they had gathers slowly dispersed, bored of waiting for anything to happen. Finally, he moved.

_He was waiting for them to go away_, Camellia thought. _So he could deal with this with more tact_. She couldn't help the pulse of fear, wondering what he would do. It felt like her father was looming over her, just after she had made some mistake and drew attention to herself. The boy stepped close to her, tangling his fingers in her hair. He pulled the ends up to inspect the jagged cut.

"What happened to your hair?" He was so serious, and at the strangest times.

"What does it matter?" The girl spit out, "Its just hair."

The boy narrowed his eyes, but dropped her hair. Sauntering away, The boy leaned his head back to watch the sky. Panic rose, her heart hammered in overdrive. If he left, she would be alone again. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but froze. What was his name? Camellia had no idea what to call him, and he was walking farther away.

Somehow, as if hearing her mind scream out, the boy turned around. Taking in her gaping mouth and surprised expression, he smirked.

"You know, if you don't know what to call me, you can just ask."

Camellia's mouth snapped shut.

"Jet." Jet. Her face paled again. Jet._ Jet_. The leader of the Freedom Fighters. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, the girl heard the warning bells go off. She knew, if she reached out to him, she would be betraying everything she knew. But his silk voice was so soothing. Before she could stop herself, she could hear her own voice responding.

"Jet, I am lost."

o0o o0o o0o

Jet leaned against the wall of his small house, watching the girl. Smellerbee had taken one look at her mangled hair when she walked in the door, and had sat her down at the kitchen table. She didn't even introduce herself before pulling out her knifes and getting to work on the mistreated hair. Now, they were chatting pleasantly. _Chatting._ This was Smellerbee, not some broad off the street. Even Longshot seemed interested in the conversation, although, he did not join in. Jet couldn't help but wonder how they did it. Every time he came close to her, she would flinch away.

Black hair fell to the ground, covering the floor in a nest. Longshot and Smellerbee were paying attention to the girl, and Camellia was seated facing away from him. The leader of the Freedom Fighters opened his fist, staring down at what he held in his hand. A lock of coal black hair. The edges of her hair were singed with fire. He had spotted the burned lock when he had first looked at the ends, but had only managed to cut it off when she was walking through the door.

His mind raced, putting together the pieces. The skill with which she pushed him down, the unnatural heat of the blade. _That heat could've just been from the sun,_ he told himself. _It couldn't be her. Just a little longer, and I'll know for sure_.

Camellia and Smellerbee laughed, completely unaware of the calculating gaze of Jet.

o0o o0o o0o

"So this is the right place?"

Longshot blinked, and Camellia took that as a yes. It was strange, how comfetible it was to be around Longshot. He saw so much, but had yet to say a word. She didn't have to worry about him asking uncomfortable questions, and he didn't have the feel of one who has a secret agenda. It had surprised her that Smellerbee and Longshot, Jet's right hand men, would be so easy to be around. Camellia had always been told they were greedy barbarians, only rebelling to get money, power, and bloodshed.

A bitter smile played across her lips, _how wrong the Fire Nation was._ Longshot was watching her, and Camellia quickly thanked him. He nodded, and walked away. Camellia turned to the building in front of her. It was situated in a lovely square of Ba Sing Se, fountains and other shops surrounding it. This tea shop stood out from the rest, with its bright green walls and golden signs. The inside was just as bright, but in a more elegant way. The jade and gold colors prevailed. A golden dragon twisted on the carpet, seeming more lifelike than any Fire Nation painting the girl had seen. The intoxicating scent of tea enveloped her, pulling her in. Small wood tables ran along both walls of the shop, and apparently it was a popular place, for there were few empty tables. The old man was helping a customer with a ridiculously long beard pick what tea he wanted, but he caught sight of her immediately.

"Come on in," He called to her, "I will be with you in a minute. I was hoping you would come."

Camellia hastily took a seat at a table next to the wall. Where she was sitting, she could see every guest at the tea house, and could watch the entrance, tables, the counter. Feeling the cool wall on her back calmed her jumping nerves. The aroma of the place wrapped her like the arms of a mother should. _If only mine had been like tea._

A kind voice startled her into waking. Her mind jumped to action, cataloging the danger of the situation, locating the exists, counting the people. her hand strayed to her dagger.

"I hope you will forgive me for not waking you up. You seemed tired, and you were sleeping so peacefully."

The voice belonged to the kind face of the old man. Immediately, the girl relaxed.

"I fell asleep?" Her surprised whisper drew a smile from the man, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"The sun is setting. I will understand if you need to head home." Camellia could not help the dread at having to go back to her empty house. She loved the flowers, but the empty rooms left her so cold inside. "Of course," the old man added, "We could always share tea and conversation before you go."

Camellia visibly brightened at the suggestion. Calling to the back of the tea house for his nephew to bring tea, the old man took a seat.

"I don't believe I have introduced myself, I am Mushi."

"Camellia."

The old man, Mushi, inclined his head in response. Camellia rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and when she opened her eyes, someone else was in the tea house. He set down a tray of steaming tea, traded a few unheard words with Mushi, and walked away. Camellia sat frozen, staring at where he had been standing. The second she laid eyes on him, she recognized him. And how could she not? Pale skin, black hair, the regal demeanor, and above all else, the large red scar covering his left eye.

"That's him, isn't it?" Her voice squeaked. The old man didn't move, his eyes narrowing. "That's the prince, Prince Zuko."

An awkward silence filled the space between them. Camellia cursed herself for speaking. Just then, she noticed no one else was in the tea house. The silence was excruciating. Mushi poured them both tea, placing a cup in front of each of them. If he was surprised by her question, he didn't show it. Camellia sat in the wood chair for what felt like an eternity. The grain of the wood bit into her back, the sweet smell of tea seemed to close her in, pushing her down, farther and farther.

Perhaps it was her body's way of relieving her of stress, or perhaps it was just too much to take in, but either way, the girl never saw it coming. It started with a simple twitch of the corner of the mouth. And then a smile. A little chuckle followed, rusty from disuse. Camellia burst out laughing. She just couldn't help it, the thought of it! She was having tea with the Dragon of the West, he had poured her tea! And the Prince Zuko had served her, and funniest of all, he was wearing an apron. Her laughter filled the tea house, a little uncomfortable sounding from lack of exercise. A faint smile played across General Iroh's face. Curious for all the noise, Prince Zuko poked his head out of the back, only making Camellia laugh harder.

It was not long until the old man's hearty laughter echoed alongside hers.

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So, that's the end. I hope y'all like it. I ended it a little different then usual, but hey, this is only the third chapter. Do y'all think this is a little choppy? And my other question, do you have anything to say? (This is me asking for reviews) I really like reviews. A lot. And followers. And favorites. And constructive criticism. Thanks, and see ya when the next chappie comes up!


	4. Cyclamen: Chapter 4

Thank you very much to my followers and favoriters, Charlotte Night 007, The Challenge Master, In-Love-With-Paul-Get-Over-It, Jack's sword, and mareandfoal. Of course a big thanks goes to my reviewers, but I am not putting their names here. The theory is that you will be so moved by curiosity to see the amazing reviews that you will go there, read the reviews, and then write your own!

Disclaimer: I confess, I do not own this word, powers, and the majority of the characters in this world that I mess with.

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"You really need to stop doing that!"

The harsh whisper directed at Jet did not seem to deride him. Instead, he chuckled.

"You don't like me walking up behind you?" He asked in his most innocent voice possible.

"No, I do not."

"Don't worry, i'm a friend."

"Sure."

Jet had been showing up the last few days as soon as Camellia rolled out her cart, and only leaving when she shoved him away. He kept insisting he wanted to help, but the girl could not help but think their was something else in his insistence at following her. He had the aura of a predator, of a hunter. _Come on, Camellia, you're just suspicious of everyone. _Shaking her head, Camellia banished the thought.

The sun beat down on her as she pushed back her black hair. Soon, it would be time to go. The sun was steadily approaching the horizon. Camellia had always waited until sunfall to leave, as she hated being crammed with thousands of others on the earth bending train. _Why does Jet stay here with me?_ She had begun to suspect that the boy had no life, or at least one with no responsibilities. At first, she was uncomfortable with him so close, intruding in her life. But something about him was exciting and new. It didn't take long for his presence next to her to be natural. It was getting harder and harder to remember her vow to hate him.

Leaning with his back against the cart, Jet gestured to the flowers she was arranging.

"What are those for?"

Brushing her hair back, she studied the arrangement, not replying for a while. The arrangement sat in a narrow necked black vase. The inside of the vase was silver, giving the appearance of a light mist under the flowers.

"A funeral." Came the detached whisper.

"Such a pretty flower for such a sad event."

Pulling out a sprig of Forget-me-nots, the girl let out a small, bitter smile.

"Cyclamen flowers mean resignation and goodbye. The forget-me-nots signify the memories shared. They seem rather fitting to me."

The flower was beautiful, almost breathtaking. A dark green stalk rose high into the air, only to point to the ground, as if turning away. Just as the arms of a crying child reach for its mother, the petals reached up to the sky. The colors of the pale purple Cyclamen and the blue of the Forget-Me-Nots complemented each other perfectly.

"It makes sense that this flower means goodbye." She continued, completely wrapped up in what she was saying. She was so wrapped up that Camellia did not notes that Jet was no longer looking at the flowers, but studying her. "Look at how the flower turns away, but the petals reach out to you. It's as if the flower doesn't want to go, but must."

Finally, Camellia looked up from her arrangement, catching his eyes. They were such a beautiful brown.

"You seem familiar with goodbyes."

Shrugging, the girl tucked the small Forget-Me-Nots around the cyclamen in the black vase. Jet didn't seem to mind her noncommittal reply. Silence again, and Camellia turned back to her flowers. _This flower should be on the other side. . . _

"I have."

His voice was so mellow as he uttered the words that Camellia's eyes darted away from her flowers to his face. He was looking away, glaring at the ground. Every line in his chiseled face spoke such intense anger that Camellia was left breathless. Without her consent, her hand reached out to touch him. _What are you doing? _she scolded herself. _You have no reason to comfert him. None!_

"I hope i'm not interrupting anything." Whipping her head around, the girl caught sight of General Iroh. Once again he was clad in the green of the Earth Kingdom. His eyes twinkled at catching the two teenagers in such an intimate position, but he said not a word on the scene.

"Of course not, Mushi." She whispered, blushing at his stare. "How may I help you today?"

The general smiled. "I wanted to see if you were still up for tonight."

"I wouldn't miss a good game of Pai Sho."

Politely, the old man nodded, rocking on his feet. Despite the fact she knew the old man would never hurt her, she still was a little apprehensive of him. It was strange to her, to be so close to someone. Someone knowing as much as the old man did about her had been dangerous in the past. Unconsciously, her hand reached out to Jet's, hanging right beside hers. Her hand met empty air.

"Is there something else?"

As soon as the whisper left Camellia, General Iroh grinned.

"You have seen through me." He replied sheepishly. "My nephew has a date with a lady friend tonight, and he should come to this stand. I wanted to, well, warn you." He chuckled a little at Camellia's raised eyebrow. "My nephew is a little hard to handle."

"Do not worry. I sell flowers to help people become close, and to make people smile. Lee is no exception."

Reassured, the general thanked her and left. Soft padding footsteps behind her alerted Camellia to Jet's approach. Camellia whipped around again, just in time to see the surprised look on Jet's face.

"You heard me?"

Camellia scoffed. "Do not be so proud. I have always known when you appear behind me."

"Hmmm."

His smile disappeared, melting into a face of grim determination.

"Do not meet with that man."

Camellia blinked. Perhaps she had heard wrong.

"What?"

"Do not meet with that man."

There was no way she could mistake the look in his eyes. The deep, pearcing stare ate into her, freezing her to the spot.

"W-why not?"

The question seemed to throw him off. His eyes grew wide, adapting a crazed look.

"Can't you see?" He yelled. "He's Fire Nation!"

Camellia's heart hammered. He knew. The world seemed to shrink in on her, pulling with it the lies. _He knew. _Fear swapped her mind, and she could feel her frail composer slipping away. _He Knew._ Those two small words swapped her. He knew. _If he could tell General Iroh was from the Fire Nation. . ._ Before she could finish the thought, Jet's voice cracked into her mind. With a voice so soft, he could deliver such painful lines.

"But you already knew that, didn't you."

Panic, in its pure form, flooded her veins. Her hands clenched in the effort of keeping her in place, keeping her from lashing out at him. She could feel the fire in her stomach, just waiting for her to unleash it.

Snarling, jet stepped towards her. "Has he hurt you?" Taking several deep breaths, Camellia attempted to process what he was saying. "I saw a piece of your hair," He continued, advancing on the girl. Her heart hammered. Knowing the cart was behind her, she stepped to the side to get away. "When I took you to Smellerbee to get it cut, It had been burned. Signed at the ends by that evil fire."

She had to get away. Camellia turned to run, But his arm flew out, slamming into the tree behind her with a thud. Trapped. His tan arms on either side, and firm eyes boring into her skull, she couldn't move. The branches swayed around her, completely unknowing of the fear that made her mind stop. The bark of the tree digged into her back. Behind them, the sun was going down, painting the sky in orange, pink and red. A small, wispy cloud hung near the sun, red as fire. Jet leaned close, staring her in the eyes.

"Has he attacked you?"

"Why would he ever-"

"He's Fire nation scum!" His yell made her jump. The look in his eyes was completely foreign. This was not the way she knew Jet. This was wrong. "They kill children and women! No one is safe from them, _no one!_"

Voice ringing in her ears, Camellia blanked. Her mind stopped. Deciding it was too much to deal with, her mind abandoned her, replaced with the one thing she could always count on. Anger.

"Never." She bit out, words laced in fire. "Never insult him."

Had it not been for the white fire filling her mind, Camellia might have found Jet's surprised expression amusing. Shoving him away with more force than strictly necessary, she stalked off.

Jet could not stop himself from landing on the ground. Once again, that crazed look came into his eyes. Every line in his face, every strand of gently blowing hair, every rustling strip of fabric, revealed the intense hatred he felt. His voice, with the soft quality of one speaking to a child, belittled the intensity of his being.

"That scum will pay."

o0o o0o o0o

_Breath. Breath. Breath. _The silent command came again and again. _Breath. _Suck in gasps of air. _Steady. Do not think. Breath. _Release a shuddering gasp. _Breath. Again. _

_Keep going. Do not think. Breath. _Somehow, she was home. Sinking to the floor. _Breath. _The stone cold against her flesh. _Breath. _Eyes squeezed shut. Fingernails digging into her palm. Pain. Time passed as only time can, without her knowing. She breathed.

Crumpled up on the floor, she let out a rasping breath. When she moved, all her bones ached. The fear had not gone away. It nestled within her like a hot snake, wrapping around her heart, squeezing tight. But she could breath. Slowly, her eyes cracked open. There would be blood. She was _sure_ of it. Red blood spilling onto the floor, staining the stone. All red. That red blood haunted her. But there was no blood. A pool of clear liquid. _What is it?_ A trembling hand touched her face. Tears.

The last time she had cried like this felt so far away. The stone was cold then as well. Cold seeping into her flesh. She let the memories sink into her.

_The stone bit into her. She could not forget the pleased look her father gave her._

"_Jiàn hào, you have done well."_

_And she had smiled. Smiled as the tears ran down her face. Smiled as the blood dripped from her dagger. Smiled as the man writhed in pain before her. Smiled as she screamed inside. She had killed a man. Her small body trembled with sobs, hidden behind the tapestry. She had killed a man. Was this normal? She asked herself, Did other eight year olds do this? _

_She had had to wait for her father to leave the room before she could collapse. By that time, the man had stopped twitching. She had reached one small, pale hand forward, and shaken his shoulder. In her mind, she knew he was dead. But she hoped. He rolled over from her trembling touch. Glassy eyes stared into hers. She screamed. _

_Rocking back and forth in the hallway, hidden behind a tapestry, Jiàn hào tried to wipe the blood from her hands. It was everywhere. Smeared on her black robe, clotted in her long hair, staining her hands. Red. Bright, vivid, Fire Nation red. _

"_H-hello?"_

_Jumping at the voice, Jiàn hào coward further into her corner. A sob broke out, revealing her position. The voice was so innocent, not yet plagued by the pain she felt. And yet it's innocence terrified her._

"_Helloo?"_

_Footsteps came close, clacking against the stone. The tapestry was thrown back. It was him. Prince Zuko, clad in a deep red nightgown. The prince. Her father's voice came back to her, floating into her mind as cold and merciless as the stones beneath her._

"_Jiàn hào, the prince is never to see you. You are not like him. You are a tool, a weapon, a Jiàn hào. If you ever see him you must not let him know who you are, and do not speak to him."_

_The prince was standing in front of her now, curiosity etched into his small face. _

"_Why are you hiding?" Shaking her head, Jiàn hào coward in on herself, trying to hide the blood._

"_What's that?" apprehension colored his voice, Prince Zuko took a step back. "Is that. . . blood?"_

Camellia shook herself, shaking the memories from her. "No." She whispered. "I am _not _Jiàn hào anymore. I am _not._"

Jumping up, she rushed to her bathroom, filling the tub with water. The cold water covered her body like a blanket, wrapping her up in a numbness that hid the pain. Grabbing a brush, she scrubbed at herself, scratching away the blood. Red, shining, sticky blood covered her sense the day she had first killed to the day she would die. Blood she had never escaped. Blood she never _would _escape.

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By the way, Jiàn hào means dagger according to google translate in Chinese. I don't really know what dialect it is, though. Anyhoo, I hope y'all have not gotten tired of Camellia's mental breakdowns. She seems to do that a lot. What do y'all think of her flashback? Any ideas as to who she is? Any questions? Of course, if I deem it a spoiler, I won't tell you. Despite what it may seem like, this story is wrapping up a little. See ya next time!


	5. Camellia: Chapter 5

I edited this because I didn't notice how many mistakes I had in it. Sorry y'all guys. Next chappie! Yay! So, y'all guys know this is a romance, and I know I haven't really been living up to the whole romance part. But that's okay, because I have a chappie with lots of development, now. Yay! Sorry about the really long delay. I have a bunch of excuses, but that is all they really are. . . Anyways. . .

Disclaimer: I still do not own Avatar: the last airbender. Surprise surprise.

When Camellia rolled her flower cart out, she was not expecting to meet one tall, brown haired boy. And yet there he was. The sight of him leaning against the tree sent her heart packing and scurrying away in fear.

_Jet has yet to notice me, maybe I can sneak away._

She cursed herself for the thought._ How weak I have become, to let someone else control me again_. Squaring her shoulders, Camellia marched out to her spot, and slammed her stool down, perhaps a little harsher than she should have.

Jet said nothing. Camellia frowned, but continued setting up. As usual, Jet stalked up to her, and took his place leaning against the cart. His arm brushed hers. She blushed. Still he said _nothing_. He stared at her in silence, inspecting her soul. The events of last night crept into her mind. Camellia could still hear him yelling, the maddening tones in his voice, the pain of thinking he knew the truth.

"Excuse me?" A harsh voice cut into Camellia's mind, dragging her thoughts away. The speaker was a young girl, almost the same height as Camellia. Her brown hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her neck. Hostility fell off of her in sickening waves. "Did you hear me?"

"I am afraid not." whispered Camellia "Please humor your servant with repeating what it was that you said."

"I was asking," she spat, "what this flower means." The girl thrust a mass of red petals into Camellia's face. She could not contain her anger.

"Can. you. read." Camellia grabbed the girls hand, fingernails digging into her skin, forcing the flower out of her grip.

"The sign said _Do Not Touch Flowers._" The girls face flushed, and she pulled her hand away. "Ingrates like you damage the soul of flowers with your greedy hands." Camellia smirked, and evil, cold and cruel smirk. The girl shivered, but stayed rooted in place. "Now, you wanted to know what this flower means." She picked up the flower, staring at it with a sort of gentle, almost fragile look. "It does not fit you." Her whisper killed. "The red camellia signifies that the receiver of the flower is the flame in my heart. Unless you are hiding a Firebender, I do not think you want it."

A fascinating change came over the girl. Her eyes darted around like little mice searching for a way away from the cat. Her hands fluttered up, smoothing her hair, smoothing her robe, and again to her hair. She seized the flower, and, throwing her money bag at Camellia, and dashed away. Camellia caught the projectile with no problem. A cackle escaped her lips at the weight of the bag.

_This is enough for a whole bouquet of camellias._

It had always been fun to play with the people of Ba Sing Sei. The way they reacted to any mention of the war or their enemy was downright hilarious. To think, none of them knew they were buying flowers from one of the very people they despised.

Explosive laughter from her right sent Camellia spinning in shock. Jet's head was tilted back, as laughter, rusty from disuse, spilled from his lips.

"You really. . .sent her. . . running."

Without knowing why, Camellia felt a blush rising. The firebender was certain she had never heard him laugh, and somehow, she knew this was a rare gift. She had been so mad, and yet hearing his laughter banished the fire from her mind.

"So, your name has an interesting meaning."

Camellia stared at him. He had been smiling, but a change came over him at her gaze. His face clouded over like so many puffy storm clouds covering the sun in a blanket of guilt.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I didn't mean to give you a name that had anything to do with those firebending scum."

_And now it"s back._ Fire raged through her, white hot in its intensity. Her words came out cruel and clipped.

"Why do you hate them so?"

"Because they murde-"

"Give me a real answer."

His mouth snapped shut. That was his answer. Camellia sighed, knowing he would never tell her. Turning back to her stand, she ignored him, even though he was so close she could feel him. It was cold, strange, wrong, to ignore him.

"Don't ignore me."

Camellia rearranged flowers, making sure they were in the right places, that they had enough water.

"Camellia."

One daisy was placed with the forget-me-nots.

"Why were you protecting them."

Another flower was in danger of being crushed. Camellia reached to pick it up and save the tiny bud from the larger flowers when two cool fingers snaked under her chin, pulling it up to Jet's.

"Listen to me."

Camellia turned her fiery gaze on Jet. Gold, sun eyes met chocolate seas.

_I wonder if he would flinch if he knew. _Camellia couldn't keep the thoughts from invading her mind as he stared at her. _Would he run away? Would he curse me, attack me?_ Camellia found herself wanting to know. Without meaning to, her mouth opened. Without commands from her brain, words crawled out of her lips.

"Maybe," she started, biting her lip. "maybe that name is not that far off."

A wall seemed to close down on Jet's face. He became a blank slate, no emotion. He let go of her, taking a step back. Camellia cursed herself for saying such a revealing thing, and yet when she sneaked a glance at the boy, she knew he had not caught on. Silence fell.

o0o o0o o0o

"I'm sorry for such a strange request."

"No, it is fine."

Camellia handed the vase of funeral flowers to the man. She was standing in a small hut in the seedy part of Ba Sing Sei. The hut was just like every other hut in this part, dark, dank, and hot. It was the man, however, who set this house apart. He was dressed in the robes of the finest court. The green and brown silks seemed wrong in the dirty hut, lie a lie. It was a delivery, that was the only reason she would ever step into this building. It smelled of death and despair.

Jet had followed her all through town, watching quietly every little boring move she made in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. Now was no exception. He was paying no attention to the finely robed client, but looking at her. What was even stranger was the feel of his gaze. It was not his usual gaze that seemed to dig into her soul and expose her secrets, it was soft, gentle, contemplative. Quickly, she bowed and was about to leave. The sadness in her clients eyes terrified her.

_Did the family of the people I killed feel this way? Did they look like this, like a broken doll?_

The delivery was to the funeral house only a few blocks from her cart. It was the last thing she had to do today, and the sooner she got away the sooner she could sink into a hot bath. Camellia always hated coming to the clients houses. Now was no exception. The robed man looked at her with broken, brown eyes.

"Thank you so much, your boyfriend is lucky to have you."

Camellia blushed, "He is _not_ my boyfriend."

The man in question grinned, and slung his arm over her shoulders, completely ignoring Camellia's glare.

"I know, she is amazing." said Jet.

Swatting at him, the girl growled. Jet jumped back, a huge grin on his face.

"I'll see ya when you get done in here." His eyes bore into Camellia, almost as if he was trying to tell her something, but he turned around and slid out of the hut. Camellia still felt strange around him; it didn't help that the whole day he had been practically hanging off her elbow. At the same time, it felt strange for him to be gone. She shuffled uncomfortably.

"I didn't take the chance to tell her. The woman I love died before I could. I got so caught up in our places in life." He gazed at the flowers, and for a moment, Camellia saw him as glass, liable to break at the slightest thought. He took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "So if you love him, tell him before it's too late."

She nodded dumbly, unable to speak. As soon as she had found herself again, she bowed and was out of the door. Outside, Jet was leaning against the building, glaring straight at the sun. He stood up, took the ever present grass out of his mouth, and stalked up to her. Camellia took off down the road and once again they fell into silence. The man's words kept bouncing around in her head, taking up all room for other thoughts.

_"So if you love him, tell him before it's too late."_

She shook her head, and this time, when the memories swarmed her thoughts, she bid them welcome. Her body moved on its own as she listened to the slick, smooth sound of her dagger sliding through flesh. She felt the handle of her blade. and the sticky, warm substance she could never wash off. Smelling the copper taste of blood hanging in the air. Feeling the pulse, quick with fear, slow and stop as life blood drained away.

A cold wind blew.

Without noticing, she had made it back to her cart, and had already checked that nothing had been stolen. Before Camellia had made the delivery, she had locked on a wooden top so the flowers would be protected, but she always checked. She waved goodbye to Jet, She rushed through streets of Ba Sing Sei, bumping along the stone with her flower cart. The sun was raising to the horizon, as if rushing to a warm bed. Camellia could not help the little growl at the thought. _She _wanted to be in bed, curled up in her red silk blankets, and ignoring all the confusing events of the day.

She had barely walked two blocks until something felt off. The back of her neck tickled. It was the familiar feeling of a person watching her. She whirled around and glared up at the roof of one of the houses.

"Sheesh," came the silky smooth voice. "how am I supposed to sneak after you if you can hear me?"

"Do_ not_ sneak after me." Camellia hissed. Jet dropped off the roof, landing catlike next to her.

"Okay."

"That does _not_ mean you can follow me!"

"If you send me away I'll still follow you."

Camellia opened her mouth to reply, but could not think of anything. Snapping her mouth shut, she huffed. Realizing it would be very difficult to give him the slip while she had her cart, the fire bender's mind reached for some sort of escape. Suddenly, it dawned on her.

_It might not work, and it is not very refined, but it is my last chance._

As expected, Jet walked behind her on the narrow road, so when they made it to the train station, she was closer than the freedom fighter. The train grind to a quick halt, and the doors slid open. Camellia did not move. Jet twirled his grass.

"Are we getting on that one?"

Camellia stared silently ahead.

"Last call!"

The doors started to close, agonizingly slow. Camellia ran, pushing her cart ahead of her. One more step and she would be on the train. The doors snapped shut, like the jaws of a hungry predator. She was inside. Jet glared at her through the glass, and Camellia could not help herself, she smiled sweetly and waved. The leader of the Freedom Fighters stormed off, a witches cackle following him.

The ride was peaceful, completely Freedom Fighter free, and it was with a light step that Camellia got off the train. She had taken three worry free steps when she heard a sound behind her. The soft breath of one trying not to be heard. She whirled around, half expecting Jet to be standing behind her with that infuriating smirk. The train stop was deserted.

On this side of the city, it was much different than the polished stone and glistening bustle of the train stop. Instead of a floor in which you could see your reflection with every step, there was a rickety wood platform. Instead of the high ceiling, painted in puffy rolling clouds, there was the real night sky. Shops and houses loomed over the train, dwarfing it. A pockmarked dirt road lead away. The train took off, as if scared it would dirty itself by staying in such a low class part of town.

Her trained eyes probed the darkness. Around corners, in alleyways, on top of houses. Her eyes traveled to each possible location for Jet to hide and felt for life.

There! One shadow, cast onto the wall of a building to her left, stood out from the rest. It was too soft to not be alive, too clear to not be large, and too sinister to not be human. Camellia's eyes narrowed. That could not be Jet. She took a silent, cautious step forward. It really did not concern her, but it was still intriguing.

"Looking for me?"

Body responded faster than mind. Within seconds Camellia had the speaker pinned to the ground and a dagger against his throat.

"You really like pouncing on people." Came the irritated retort.

"Jet!"

"Aren't you glad i'm not some psychotic killer?"

The firebender shot up. Jet was attempting to climb up from the ground, dusting off his clothes, and replacing his grass all at the same time. Grabbing hold of her cart, she bumped and jostled down the abused road.

"A psychotic killer would be easier to handle." She mumbled under her breath.

Camellia sighed as Jet came up beside her, taking her cart away.

"That looks like a pain, so i'll get it. Just tell me where to go."

The rest of the trip was spent with Jet walking next to Camellia as if he had always been there, and Camellia muttering darkly to herself. No matter how much she tried to avoid it, the firebender could not keep the thought of how _right_ it felt to have Jet beside her.

Camellia sneaked a glance as Jet. The night air flowed around him, tugging at his hair and clothes, as water flows around a waterbender. His chiseled face held such a turmoil of emotions, even when he attempted to hide them. The sadness was always there, the hatred forming the muscles. The pockmarked road soon became smooth again, the houses melted away into farmland, and Camellia's house came into view.

"This is definitely you're sort of house." Jet said as he eyed the abundant flowers. Camellia blushed faintly, and led him around back. Curtly, she dismissed him.

"The flower cart goes in the shed, thank you for helping and I will see you later."

Jet followed his instructions, but did not take the invitation to leave. He stared at her. The yellow moon hung just above him, the light giving him an otherworldly look. Camellia glanced behind her to see the wall of her house.

"Why do you keep cornering me?"

A sly grin crossed his face. His fingers curled in her silky hair. He placed his lips delicately on her pale neck. Camellia shivered. The action was too familiar, too wonderful, too enticing.

"If I don't," He whispered, his voice tickling against her flushed neck. "you will run away." Jet drew away from her, Camellia was lost in his chocolate seas. An expression of melancholy, of longing, and countless other nameless emotions was etched into his features. Jet put his arm against the wall, inches from her neck.

Camellia's heart stopped. He slid closer, and closer, until his face was inches away from hers. She could feel the heat from his body, his breath puffed against her face. Suddenly, Camellia realized he had left a hole, a path for her to escape. One arm was dangling at his side. One shove and he would be out of her way. It would be so easy to get away.

Camellia did not move.

His lips brushed hers, tentatively at first. He kissed her as if he was too passionate, she would disappear. A thousand different emotions coursed through Camellia's body. _Push him away!_ Screamed half of her mind, and the other screamed just as loud _give in!_

A tear slid down her porcelain cheek.

Jet leaned back, catching the tear with his finger.

"Don't cry." His voice cracked.

"I don't. . .I can't. . .I'm not. . . "

Jet pulled her into his embrace, stroking her hair. She could hear his heart beating against her,_ thumping thumping thumping._

She melted into his embrace. Tears threatened to fall, clinging tenaciously to her eyelashes.

"I'm not. . . good enough."

Jet was rocking her back and forth, calming her.

"No one is better."

His voice washed over her.

"You don. . .don't know what I . . . I've done."

"I don't care."

"You don't . . . Don't know w-what I am."

He squeezed her tighter, almost crushing her with his strength.

"I'm here."

The tears that had been clinging to life cascaded down her face. Burying her face into his chest, she let herself be comforted like she had never been comforted before.

Above them, on top of her house, a shadow stirred.

It will be a little while before I can post again, because I am going to write everything down first, that way I don't write myself into a corner. While growing mushrooms in the corner is fun, I don't think it will do me much good. Sorry Tamaki-senpai. . . Earlier, I was reading this great fanfiction, called To SAve a Prince, and I had this moment of NOOOO! WHY? I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER! RIGHT NOW! And then the thought occurred to me. Maybe there is someone in the world who feels that way about my story. If that is true, I your suffering brings me happiness. Please review! And thank you to the lovely people who have reviewed and favorited and all that jazz. oh, when I was writing the intimate scene, I was listening to the Music of the Night from the Phantom of the Opera, a mystery never fully explained. . .

Did you notice it? Camellia's speech pattern changed. The first person to comment with what changed (and why!) gets a prize! like. . .um. . . imaginary cookies?


	6. Chapter 6

So, the flower theme for the chapter names did not last... and I haven't posted in ages. Sorry y'all guys. Read on, wonderful readers!

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Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar, the handsome Jet or cabbages. Just Camellia. SHE"S MINE! ALL MINE! Well, if I said that, she would probably come and kill me. . . .

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A dark shadow crawled across the roof of a small house. The house was swamped in flowers of all kinds, and a little stone pathway led to the door. Slowly, the shadow crawled to the edge and poked its head out to see what was below. It was a girl and boy, clinging to each other for dear life. Such an emotional scene.

White eyes blinked. The only feature of the shadow that was visible, as the rest was wrapped tightly in black cloth. Slowly, it retreated, climbing off the roof of the house and away. The shadow glided around the flowers, barely moving them as it passed. More like spirit then man, it retreated to a small hill, and crouched to the ground. The shadow pulled a whistle from his pockets, and pulled down the mask. Two short, quick calls. Satisfied, the shadow sat back, and pulled off its mask and hood.

His eyes were the cold, dead color of a corpse. His skin was as pale as the sand at the bottom of the sea. His hair was black, and fell to the small of his back, once released from the hood. It was the only feature of his that seemed alive. Calculating eyes roamed the sky, waiting for the prize. And there it was. A small dark speck at first, it grew in size until a hawk lighted on the man's outstretched cloth-wrapped arm.

Quickly, he pulled the sheet of paper out of the messenger hawks tube, and let the bird hop to the ground. The letter was of no interest to him, as he had already received his orders. He turned the paper over and scrawled out his reply.

_We found her. We will wait to ascertain whether or not she can be salvaged, and proceed when it is known. We shall take pleasure in the destruction of this one, if we may be so bold._

_-Shinigami_

With the message back in the tube, man and bird took their leave. One, sneaking across the ground to one of the many abandoned houses at the edge of Ba Sing Sei, and bird to the sky. He soared on the air, flying with sure stride into the heart of the Fire Nation. Soon, the messenger hawk lighted at the window of one terrible man's room. The flight had been a long one, several days, so the bird payed no mind to the cruel hands reading the letter in such a gentle way. His face held the serene comfort one normally associated with a father finally getting word of the well being of a long lost child.

o0o o0o o0o

Camellia glanced down at Smellerbee and Longshot, a bemused expression crossing her face.

"Come on," She whispered, "we took a break ten minutes ago."

Smellerbee shot her a glare so strong it would have burned her hair. The Freedom Fighters leaned against a fountain, listening to the water and taking a long needed break. Camellia and the Freedom Fighters had been searching for days, but to no avail.

"It has not been ten minutes, we haven't taken a break this whole day!"

Longshot's eyebrows shot up, and Smellerbee sighed. "I know, I know." She continued, as if the boy had spoken. "We have to find a lead on Jet. But it's hot out!" Climbing to her feet, the tomboy shot another glare at Camellia, as if blaming her for the temperature. "How can you even stand to wear that thing?"

Camellia glanced down at her black robe and shrugged. She supposed it would be fairly simple to buy the green Earth Nation robes, that way she would not stand out quite that much, but still. It just does not feel right, to wear the clothes of the culture my people are at war against.

Longshot cocked his head to the side, listening. Smellerbee stopped scooping up water from the fountain.

"Did you hear that?"

Frowning, the girl closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her. The regular sounds of the city rushed up to her, clustering around her ears like so many gnats. Children laughing, a dog barking, water splashing to the ground. Somewhere to her left, a mother sang a lullaby to calm a crying baby. To the right, a market bustled. Clinking coins, people calling out their wares. "Fish here!" "Best jewelry in town." "My cabbages!" Creaking wheels and burning hearts. Down an indistinguishable alleyway, a thug robbing a thin man of the last coins he needed to buy bread for the week.

With a practiced ear, Camellia tuned all of this out, swatting the sounds out of the sky. A voice floated to her, passed all of the buildings, passed the people choking it out and reducing the words to a pile of dust, as you might reduce a beautiful vase to a pile of sharp sand. The meaning was lost, but the voice was unmistakable. A smooth, low, sultry tone that no other human could produce. Jet.

Her eyes snapped open. Smellerbee and Longshot were already dashing around the corner. The firebender followed, but at a calmer rate. Her trained eyes picked up every move, every person on the way.

"Jet!"

Camellia skidded to a stop just before she crashed into Smellerbee.

"I thought you said you didn't have your gang anymore."

Somethings wrong.

"I don't."

Camellia froze when she caught sight of the scene. The Avatar, and what must have been his friends, were all huddled together behind Jet. A girl, perhaps the one Aang had bought flowers for, was standing next to Jet, glaring daggers into him. Her, and a rather cute boy with a pigtail, were so obviously Water Tribe it wasn't even funny. The last person was the only one who actually fit into the surroundings. A girl, about twelve, in Earth Nation robes, gazed vaguely in front of her. It was after a closer look Camellia realized why. She was blind.

And then there was Jet. He still had those chocolate eyes, rugged look, and casual look, but something was different. He was no longer chewing on a piece of straw, and the very way he was standing was so... so... good guy. Longshot and Smellerbee had run up to Jet, looking at him with confusion.

"We have been looking for you everywhere. How did you escape the Dai Lee?"

"The Dai Lee?"

Camellia looked at Longshot, a question in her eyes. Something passed between them, something the others took no notice of. Depending on how he reacted, she would interfere or not. Longshot nodded.

Smellerbee was talking. "You were kidnapped by the Dai Lee a couple wee-"

"Jet." Her voice cut through the conversation, stopping Smellerbee mid sentence. The tomboy's eyes grew wide, surprised by her almost yell. All eyes turned to her.

"Hey, Camellia!" the Avatar said, earning him a nod.

"Who is she?"

"Hush!"

The firebender stalked passed them, stopping inches away from the newly found Jet. Despite the height difference, Camellia glared into his eyes. He was different. Yes, the grass is gone, but it is more than that. Camellia meused. Jet squirmed under her gold eyes. That's it. The realization was so obvious it was surprising she had not picked up on it earlier.

While before, Jet's eyes bore into your core with such intensity it took your breath away; before, you could watch the flames of intelligence dance behind the chocolate sea, his eyes now held no such beauty. A dull, feigned innocence unfitting the wild boy filled the chocolate orbs. And a smell. The smell of fresh linen drifted to her, instead of the familiar musk of the forest.

"Who are you?"

Camellia blinked. What? Who asked that? Jet looked at her as a puppy would, curiosity etched into his features.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know who you are." he said.

Anger, hurt, and fear, all rode up within her and battled for dominance. She grit her teeth, pushing down her emotions.

That is good, She told herself, Better if he does not remember you. Better that he does not remember that night. Vaguely aware of Smellerbee's voice, Camellia felt the hilt of her dagger slide into her hand. Her hand clenched so hard she could feel it shaking, feel the familiar curves and grooves in the hilt dig into her palm. Tears tickled her eyes.

The sickening sound of the hilt of her dagger smashing into his cheek echoed in her ears. Unprepared for the attack, Jet fell to the ground.

"How dare you." Her voice trembled with emotion, with rage, with fury. "How dare you let yourself be brainwashed!"

o0o o0o o0o

Camellia was not sulking. Sure, she was sitting in a corner and not assisting in the interrogation of Jet. Sure, she would, every now and then, glare angrily at Jet. But no, she was not sulking. Firebenders don't sulk.

Thoughts swarmed around in her head, most of them involving shanking Jet. The rest all floated back to that night. It was about two weeks ago now. His kiss still burned in her memory, still burned on her lips. The day after, he had not been waiting for her as usual. He had not been hiding in the tree, and he had not shone up the whole day. She half expected him to be waiting at her house, but he was nowhere in sight. Only a few days past with him not ever showing his face until she found out why. Longshot had approached her, telling her what Jet had done.

It was so stupid that Camellia had a mind to stalk into the Dai Lee's headquarters and beat him senseless. Accusing General Iroh of being a firebender in a city where the war never existed? It was like holding up a sign saying "Come arrest me, Dai Lee! If you don't, I will tell everyone in the city about how the uniforms include pink panda panties!"

She glared at Jet again, but he paid her no mind.

"They took me to a headquarters under water, like a lake."

Camellia snapped back into the conversation, wondering what she had missed.

"Wait. Remember what Ju-" started the water tribe boy, but Camellia interrupted him.

"You mean Lake Laogai?"

"Thats it! Lake Laogai."

The water tribe boy puffed out his cheeks, "I wanted to say it. . "

"Wait," said the water tribe girl, "How did you know what its called?"

Camellia blinked, realizing her slip. The water tribe girl advanced on her. "What do you do? For that matter, why are you here?"

"I am a florist." she whispered.

"Oh."

It was soft, but Camellia heard the little sound of realization coming from Jet. Guilt shone out on his face. So he remembers.

"Camellia." he said.

"I thought you said you didn't know her." said the earth nation girl. She wasn't accusing, but simply curious. Jet ignored her. He stood up, ran over to Camellia, and practically dragged her out of the house.

"I have to talk to her alone." he shot over his shoulder, and they were out the door. Letting go of her hand, Jet climbed up to the roof of the house. Camellia only hesitated a second before following. He was already sitting on the edge of the roof, his feet dangling. The view of Ba Sing Sei was absolutely beautiful. From the roof of the house, they could see miles around. The trailing walls encasing the city, the rotting slum of Ba Sing Sei, the glistening higher ring. When he had yet to say anything, Camellia came over and sat down next to him. Her bare feet dangled in the air.

"When I was eight, I lived in a little village with my older brother and younger sister." Camilla watched him, judging whether or not he was telling the truth. "The fire nation came. The army was passing by on the way to the battlefield, and had been burning villages and ransacking the food. The general was a terrible man. He had been taking women to be his slaves. I think. . . He took my sister and mom." In a cold, detached voice, he continued. "I watched his soldiers kill my dad."

Camellia rested her hand on his shoulder, waves of guilt flooding her. She knew it was not her fault, yet at the same time, she could not help but feel guilty for what the Fire nation had done. It was always like this. Every time someone spoke of the cruel things the Fire Nation did, she would feel so guilty. Her mind strayed back to one of her first kills.

"What was the generals name?"

"General Syun."

Camellia commanded that he look her in the eyes, and when he turned to her, she could see the spirits of the dead haunting him.

"General Syun died six years ago."

"He really died? you're sure?" A bitter smile graced her lips. She could still hear him commanding that she be taken to her bed chamber. He never thought to protect himself around his women. Of course, he had never picked up a fire bender.

"Absolutely."

A sigh escaped him, his head falling onto her shoulder. Camellia placed a delicate hand on his head.

"Thank you for telling me."

Camellia shook her head.

"Thank you for telling me why you hate the Fire Nation."

They sat like that for a while, just leaning on each other, neither saying a thing. It was so calming to sit there, Jet leaning against her, breathing next to her. Jet broke the silence.

"Camellia, listen to me." he sat up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "I know we both are tied down by something. I don't know what has tied you down, but I know we can get out of this together. I don't have a job, and the only way I know to get money is fighting. But I, I want to spend as much time as I can with you."

Camellia shot up.

"Jet, I already told you. I am not good enough."

"And i've already told you I don't care."

Camellia shook her head.

"You don't. . .You don't understand. I have killed so many." The look he was giving her terrified her, and yet Camellia could not stop talking. She could feel her heart ripping. How she wanted to leap into her arms, but she knew it could never work. Not for her. "They f-follow me, I can't get a-away from them." She backed up, shaking her head. "Don't. . Don't think ab-about me. I'm no g-good."

Quickly, she turned and jumped off the roof, landing perfectly on the ground. Tears stung her eyes. _ Why did he have to bring that up?_ She was just taking a few calming breaths when a stone hand clamped down on her mouth. She was pulled away from the house, and before she could fight back, stone handcuffs were biting into her flesh. Pain seared up her arms.

"You are under arrest," said a Dai Lee agent, "for the crime of being a firebender in the city of Ba Sing Sei."

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Oh dear, this does not sound good. Y'all might want to rant in the reviews... I couldn't ever get the ending exactly how I wanted it.


	7. Chapter 7

So, new chapter. I'm planning for this fanfic to end in two or three chapters. This one is a little more violent than the others, a little darker. I hope you like it, though! Let me know what you think! Oh, and if any of you care, I already have an idea for the next story.

A little reminder, when the whole thing is in italics, that means its a memory.

Disclaimer: There is a chance that I'm a masterful animator/writer/director, and that I created the Avatar tv show. You can think that if you want. But if you did, you would be wrong. XD

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Pain. It was the only thought her brain could work out. Pain. Camilla's body burned, stabs of lightning shooting through every inch of her flesh. Her very bones ached. She curled herself out of the fetal position, bones cracking in the most unpleasant ways, and attempted a posture of one meditating. It was the only way she knew to deal with the pain.

Camilla was sitting in a metal cage, hanging several feet in the air. When the Dai Lee agents took her there, she had a vague idea of what to expect. After all, the Fire Lord made it his personal business to know everything about his enemies secret lairs, down to the color scheme. Reading about it in a book, and being there in person where two completely different things. The prisoners in this section of Lake Leogai were all deemed most dangerous to Ba Sing Sei. Metal cages identical to the one she was in were suspended three arms length apart, and at varying heights to keep the prisoners from passing things around. Below them was murky, dirty water. The guards would earthbend a bridge for them to hand up a jug of water once a day, but when they left, there was no platform in which to stand. The walls were slick with mold, making any climbing attempts impossible. If Camellia sat in the very center of the cage, she was invisible to anyone unless they stood with their back pressed to the door.

One thing had always amused Camilla in a sick sort of way. When humans were treated like animals, they began acting like them. The smell of human waist clogged her throat. She had heard, to her right, the echoing sound of bone scraping against metal; someone was chewing on the metal bars. Rattling, dead breathing echoed in such a way it was impossible to tell where it was coming from. To her left, the sobbing murmurings of a mad woman came to her, echoing about the chamber.

"... They ate her... coming! They're coming! H-help. help." She would scream, rock the cage, moan, and break down into sobs, but Camilla had never seen her. It made her skin crawl.

It was to this cacophony of sounds that Camilla meditated. Her training kicked in, and she separated her mind from her body. All of the sounds of death around her disappeared, the smells, the pain. She had separated herself, allowing her to view the situation as if it were happening to someone else. She took inventory of the injuries the guards had given her. Her body was badly bruised, and deep gashes covered her back. Her black robe had been shredded, and was now only clinging to her back by dried blood.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. _Thank goodness that is all._

o0o o0o o0o

Aang sighed. It was all so confusing. Finding a kinder Jet in Ba Sing Sei, and then Camellia knowing him was just so strange. What were the chances of the florist he bought flowers from knowing a fire nation hater such as Jet? Apparently pretty good.

The group had been searching for Lake Leogai for days. They had made the assumption that Camilla had been kidnapped, but for the life of him, Aang could not think of why. What would the Dai Lee want with a helpful florist? He sighed again, and Mo Mo jumped on his head.

"Hey boy. I bet you miss Oppa." He said. "Don't worry, we'll find him, and Camellia too."

Aang walked back to the group just as Jet jumped up.

"I think I know where it is! it's coming back to me. Just around that ridge!"

Aang couldn't help the little hopeful feeling that bloomed in his heart at the words. Jet had said the same thing five times now, but this time it might be real.

o0o o0o o0o

_Camilla picked at the red silk robe clinging to her skin. Surrounded as she was by earth nation women in red, sultry robes, she did not feel at all herself. Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Inside, she was calm, but it did no good to stand out. The women's eyes were dead, hopeless. They had all been gathered for General Syun. _

_The women had been gathered from villages all over the countryside, plucked like flowers and arranged in a vase for the pleasure of greedy eyes. Everyone of them sat huddled together, arms clutching tight to themselves and one another, on fluffy fire nation pillows. _

_Fire nation soldiers threw open the tent flap. The selection had begun. The soldiers stepped to the side and held the tent flap open for the general. He moved like a panther, conveying power in each step. Arrogance, pride and strength radiated off him, pushing against all occupants in the room. Real goose bumps rose on Camilla's arms. The women shrunk away from him. His cruel gaze passed over them all, until he saw Camilla. _

_"Her." His voice was thick with self love, even as he was speaking of another human. He turned on his heel and left, the tent flap swishing behind him. Camellia"s heart pounded as the soldiers grabbed her, and dragged her after the General. The other women let out a collective breath. Not me yet, They thought, Thank goodness it's not me._

_Camilla dug her heels into the dirt floor of the tent. The soldier on her right growled, and they picked her small form up off the ground. The fire nation soldiers dragged her into a much grander tent then the one the women were kept in._

_"Sorry." Whispered the soldier on her left, as they tossed her in. Immediately, she analysed the space she had. The tent was large, but the bed was even more so. from the edge of the bed to the side of the tent was about four feet. Everything was red, the sheets, the tent, the expensive rug. The bed was in the very center of the tent, and to her right was a desk, stuck there as if on second thought. The general stood beside it. _

_"You must know why I picked you first, out of all those women." He purred. He took one step toward her, and she cowered on the bed. Vaguely, she was aware of the soldiers leaving. _

_"How does a earth nation woman have such grey eyes?"_

_The general stalked around her bed. His calloused hand caressed her face; Camilla shivered in disgust. Smirking, the general resumed circling her. I just had to wait for a lapse in his guard, she kept telling herself, trying not to panic. _

_"I feel as if I've seen you before." He said. "You look .. . almost like a fire nation woman."_

_The general turned his back to her, rummaging through the desk. _

_This was it. Like a spark catching fire, she lept forward. A hidden dagger slipped into her hand, radiating with heat. In one motion, she clamped a hand over his mouth, and plunged the dagger into his back. The long blade easily reached his heart, cauterizing the wound and causing the general to twitch violently. It was the signature of the fire nation assassins to kill with a heated blade. Camellia knew that as soon as he was found, every soldier would know that Lord Ozai wanted this man dead. _

_"For dirtying the Fire Nation by touching the vile flesh of an earth nation woman," She whispered in his ear, as his pulse slowed. "you must die." Giving a vindictive twist to the blade, the assassin felt his body shudder and go still. _

_As she had been instructed, she pulled the quickly cooling corpse onto the bed, staining the red sheets with real blood. Pulling the note out of her silk robe, Camilla dropped it on his chest and plunged her dagger through it. _

_The last thought she had before slipping away was how her father had such a flair for the dramatics._

o0o o0o o0o

The Memories swirled around Camilla with the Dai Lee agents light. The agent whispered to her, his soft, calculated voice so soothing.

"You are a turncoat. You hate the fire nation. You will try to kill Lord Ozai."

Camilla stifled a laugh. He didn't have to brainwash her, she already hated the fire nation. The things she had done for the "people" were horrendous, more than anyone should have to bear. Camilla was grateful for her training in resisting brainwashing. The trick was simple enough in theory, but difficult in practice. The times her father had brainwashed her for practice resisting it was countless. She forced her mind away from the light. Her eyes were open, but unseeing. With her mind, she blocked out the light, the mans voice, and the pain of her body, focusing only on the past.

o0o o0o o0o

_Another kill. It just got so tiring sometimes. She was perched in the mans window, watching his chest rise and fall. Soft snores filled the room. It was strange to think that in only a moment he would not be breathing. This man was so old, so frail, and yet he was an essential part of earth nation defence. Camilla had her orders, he would die tonight. _

_Silently, she stepped into the room, and up to his bed. He was laying on his side away from the fire bender. She loomed over him, dagger drawn, casting an ominous shadow across the bed. She raised her dagger, about to plunge it into his neck. Most people would think a simple slice across the jugular would cut it, but she knew better. No, she had to sink her dagger into the small gap in the back of his skull, where the spine came up to the head. It was much cleaner that way. Otherwise, he would have to bleed out, and that took too much time. The dagger in her hand was especially thin, perfect for the job._

_He stirred. The girl froze, barely breathing. _

_What if he wakes up? __ Camilla cleared away her doubts, knowing she could take him. She had the element of surprise. The man rolled over. Painfully slowly, his eyes fluttered open, closed, and flew open in shock. She could hear his heart pounding, feel the air tense as the seconds stretched by. Cold gray eyes met green shaking eyes. No one moved._

_Every pore in her being screamed at her to attack, to sink her dagger into his wrinkling flesh and let it drink up his filthy blood. Her face twisted into a snarl. _

_"M-monster!" He shrieked, twisting away from her. His eyes never left her face. His face was stained in terror, lips pulled back, skin taunt, eyes wide. An unearthly scream rent the air. It was a sound unlike any other. It wound around Camilla's pounding heart, squeezing her chest tighter and tighter. _

_Her dagger flew out of her hand, slamming into the old mans flesh. The scream died down, but she could still hear it._

_"Shut up." She growled. Lunging across the bed, her hands wound around his throat. Camilla dragged him into the center of the room, throwing him to the floor. He whimpered as his head cracked against the stone. Brutally, she kicked him once, twice, three times. _

_Someone screamed. Camilla's couldn't think. The man wasn't moving. __ How dare he.__ Another scream. Camilla grabbed him again, watching his head roll back. Blood covered his face. __How dare he.__ She threw his frail form onto the bed, shooting fire after him. His robes caught the flame. _

_Camilla looked down. Her breathing was harsh. The unearthly scream still rattled around in her head, wrapped around her heart. She could hear it, resonating through her body. __Monster.__ Her chest was getting tighter, tighter. She couldn't breath. She stared at her shaking hands. They were covered in so much blood. So much red blood._

_The fire had traveled to the bed, the tapestry. There was blood everywhere. So much blood. Smoke was clogging up the room. The acidic smell of burning flesh clogged her throat. She shook uncontrollably. Vaguely aware of running, all she could think about was the blood. Screaming, fire, and blood. She ran. Out of the window, through the gardens, passed crowds of people waking up to the violence. She didn't stop until she was away. Away from the fire. Away from the corpse. Away from the blood._

_As she ran, she wiped the tears away, only staining her face with blood. She could feel it drying on her. Camilla crashed into a river. A stranger looked up at her from the surface. Wild gold eyes, trembling lips, burned hair and clothes. And so much blood. It soaked her clothes, clung sticky to her skin, clumped in her hair, crusted on her face._

_She threw herself into the water, scratching at her skin. One thought ran through her mind. __I'll never kill again._

o0o o0o o0o

Cold metal against her flesh brought her out of the memories. More pain, more injuries. Camilla let her head clear. _How many days has it been? Months? Years?_ Her shoulder was throbbing, and for a moment she couldn't remember why. _ Oh, that's right. They popped it out of place._

Her mind strayed to the Freedom Fighter. _ Wonder if he knows where I am yet._ She could almost see him running around Ba Sing Sei, searching for her everywhere, yelling frantically. He would check her house, find the cave, the firenation things. It wouldn't be hard to figure it out. The idea of him knowing she was a firebender filled her with more fear than the Dai Lee could ever dream of.

_No,_ She told herself. _They wouldn't bother with searching for me._ Her own thoughts stung her. For the first time since the Dai Lee had taken her, she could feel tears falling down her face. She gave a dry sob. _Jet doesn't care about me. he hates me._

"Camilla?" The whisper was quite, hopeful, scared. The girl curled into a ball in the center of her cage. Fear kept her from looking down. She knew with every ounce of her being that if she looked down, he would be there. It would be Jet, but just her tired mind playing horrible tricks on her. Or worse, he would be there, and he knew all those horrible lies. His eyes would burn with hatred, and he would kill her.

"Camilla?"

"No." She whispered, unable to help herself. She heard a bunch of water sloshing around. An earthbender must have raised the bridge. "No!" She shrieked.

"That was her!"

"Where are you?"

"We're here to help!"

The voices bounced around her. Voices she was terrified to hear. They were not going to help, they were going to kill her.

"She's up there, in that cage."

Camilla buried her head in her knees. A shriek escaped her lips.

"Go away!"

The voices stopped. A relieved sigh escaped her lips, even while she felt disappointment. They had left. As soon as she calmed down, she could hear a scraping sound. Back and forth. Must be the prisoner chewing on the bars. But that couldn't be right. It sounded different than that. A hole tore itself into the metal below her, and she fell through the air. Strong arms caught her. Camilla opened her eyes slowly to see the worried face of Jet. He didn't know.

"She's hurt. Katara, heal her!" The panic in his voice calmed all of her fears. He didn't know. Jet set her down on the stone, as Katara rushed over.

"It's not that bad." Camilla mumbled. Katara's brow furrowed in concentration as she started healing a few of the brusius.

"Stop." Camilla said. Her head was pounding, making it hard to talk. "Those can. . . Wait. Heal my back." She tried to sit up, but fell right back down, letting out a whimper. Jet was instantly there, helping her to sit up. Everyone gasped when they saw her back. As soon as Katara started healing her, the pain subsided until she could barely feel it. Jet patted her head, one hand gripping hers so tight it ached. Camilla started laughing. Her head leaned back with the effort.

"Is she alright?" Asked the cute watertribe boy.

"I just realized," Camilla whispered, a little loopy. "I still don't know your names."

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Stay tuned for the next chapter!


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